


Advent 2016

by kiss_me_cassie



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Advent Calendar, Clintasha Week, F/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-08 19:04:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8857261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/pseuds/kiss_me_cassie
Summary: Various ficlets written for the Clintasha Advent Calendar on tumblr





	1. Day 15: Parties

Clint tugged at his collar one last time then checked again to make sure the cut of his jacket sufficiently hid the gun in the holster beneath it. Satisfied that it did, he pocketed the hotel room keycard and headed down to the ballroom, where he was scheduled to meet Natasha.

It was unlikely he'd even need to use the gun. The job was a quick in and out. Natasha was set up to get close to the mark at the party, drug his drink, and then incapacitate him for the night. Once he was down and out, they'd enter his room, get the intel, and get out.

Easy enough, he thought. Until he got to the ballroom and spied Natasha in a vibrant red dress, flirting heavily with their mark. That in itself didn't bother him; they'd played this same scenario dozens of times before. What bothered him was the way the mark was pawing at her, his hands roaming possessively over her body.

Clint's hands clenched, the only visible sign that it bothered him. Natasha was a professional. She new how to deflect the mark's attention while simultaneously luring him into enough false security that she could safely drug him.

Still, he itched to have his bow so he could aim it at the man's heart and warn him away.

He flexed his fingers, willing himself to relax. This was nothing, meant nothing. It was a job like any other. All he had to do was keep an eye out to make sure nothing mucked up their plans at the party and that they were able to retrieve the information safely afterwards.

Thirty minutes later, Natasha's warm, husky voice reassured him over the comms.

"Target is down. Meet you at the rendezvous point in ten. And Agent Barton? Be sure not to lose the tux. I have some interesting plans for it and you later."


	2. Day 16: De-Aged/Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the thing: De-aged is not my jam. And besides the little Utopian fantasy of an OT3 with Clint's canon kids, I just can't picture these two reacting well to babies/children in any way. So I'm twisting the prompt to me needs.

"Where's Steve?" Tony asked desperately as he skidded into the common room of the Tower, baby Jacqueline strapped securely to his chest in the baby carrier. 

Clint and Natasha looked up from where they were on the couch, watching a movie. 

"He and Wilson went for a run," Natasha said, sitting up straighter, curious as to what was making him so agitated.

"What about Foster?"

They both shrugged.

"Thor?" 

He was near about whimpering by this point.

"Sorry, pal, but I don't think he's on planet right now," Clint commented, looking at Tony with concern. "What's up?"

Tony scrubbed a hand through his hair and looked at them with crazy eyes. 

"Pepper's in LA for a meeting with the shareholders and I forgot about the thing with the guy and I promised her I wouldn't mess this up... I mean, how hard could caring for one baby be?"

He started unbuckling the carrier and Clint looked up at him in alarm.

"Uh, Stark…"

"I can't. I cannot blow off this meeting," Tony said, as he handed the squirming kid off to Clint, carrier and all. "Assassins, you're on baby duty. Feed her if she cries, rock her when that doesn't work, and for God's sake, don't drop her or leave her alone!"

Then he was gone, out the door, and Clint and Natasha were left alone with the little girl, matching expressions of horror on their faces as they stared down into her cherubic face.


	3. Day 17: Emotions (Fear)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point I’ll write something happy and fluffy and holiday-ish (I have plans for the music prompt!) but today is not that day.

He found her at the back of the quinjet after everyone else had already disembarked. She was sitting on the floor, back straight against the wall, knees pulled up tightly to her chest.

“Natasha?” When she didn’t answer he knelt in front of her and lightly touched her knee. “Tash?”

She stared out over his shoulder and he watched with concern as a shudder ran through her body.

“Tasha? You with me? You ok?”

Nodding her head ever so slightly, she briefly allowed her gaze to meet his.

“What happened?”

He watched as she gritted her teeth and visibly tamped down on her emotions. Her gaze dropped and she shook her head.

“Nothing. It’s fine. We’re fine.”

“You’re _not_ fine. What the hell happened out there?”

“Nothing,” she said shrugging, her gaze still locked on the other side of the jet. “We’re good.”

He cursed.

“Yeah, we’re so good that we’re sitting in a cold, dark quinjet when we could be up in the Tower, warming up together in a hot shower. What _happened_?” he pushed, shifting to settle next to her, his bare arm up against her leather clad one.

She shrugged again, but he could see her resolve weakening and he pulled her against him, settling her head against his shoulder. “Talk to me, Tash.”

“My comm flipped out, I couldn’t hear anything and from my spot of the ground I couldn’t see you. When I got communications back, Cap was saying something…” She stopped and shook her head again.

Clint nodded. “He was talking about one of their pilots. You thought he was talking about me?”

“I should have known better,” she bit out.

He tugged her closer. “You panicked.”

“I don’t panic.”

Smiling, he kissed the top of her head. “Nope, you don’t. Let’s call it a moment of temporary insanity, shall we?”

She lifted her head at that and glared at him and he was glad to see her getting back to her normal self.

He stretched his legs out and stood, holding a hand out to her. “C'mon. Let’s got hit the showers. Then you can show me just how worried you were about me.”


	4. Day 18: Hobbies/Activities

“What smells so good?” Natasha asked as she let herself into the apartment.

Clint wiped his hands on the towel tucked into the waistband of his jeans. “Chili and cornbread. Bread’ll be ready in about 10 minutes, then we can eat.”

“Can’t wait,” she sighed, kicking off her shoes and settling on a stool by the counter.

He moved over and massaged her shoulders. “Tough day with Stark?”

She rolled her eyes. “You have no idea.”

He chuckled. “You could always abandon Fury’s little pet project and come back to New Mexico with me.”

“Exasperated or bored? Hmm… tough choice,” she teased, leaning back into his touch. “I think I’ll stick with exasperated for now, but if you keep up with this new cooking hobby, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“Just for the cooking?” he asked.

“Well, I could be convinced by other things,” she answered with a smile, turning to give him a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “How long did you say the bread will be?”

“About another 5 minutes now,” he answered. “But I could be persuaded to turn the oven off and let it sit.”

“Consider yourself persuaded.”


	5. Day 19: Arguments/Fights/Making Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't do it. There's too much bad in the world today. So… twisting for my own comfort.

The argument is loud and public and by the time Natasha stalks from the common room, everyone is staring at Clint with varying amounts of pity, awe and concern, not quite sure what they just witnessed but knowing that it's bad.

Clint doesn't care. He shrugs off Cap's worry and Tony's snark and slinks from the room, bypassing the elevator to take the stairs at a jog. One floor, two floors, three… pretty soon he's at the door to the roof. He does a quick check on the security camera and smiles when he discovers it's already been disabled.

Stepping out onto the gravel deck, he's gratified to see the flicker of candlelight in the corner and to hear the faints strains of music drifting through the air. A few steps further and he can see her hair reflecting the light from the candles.

"Next time, we should come to blows," she says, not even turning around to make sure it's him, and his grin gets even bigger.

"So Stark can tease me about punching like a girl?" he asks as he lowers himself to the ground next to her.

"So he get's worried enough that he doesn't provoke either of us for a while."

"You don't think it might just be easier to admit we're a couple?"

She turns and her green eyes sparkle with amusement. "Where's the fun in that?"


	6. Day 20: Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songfic! I know. Horribly cheesy of me. An abomination. I'm sorry. Only not really. Heh. And hey! This one is CHRISTMASY. FINALLY.

" _I'll wait up for you, dear Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight…_ "

She sang directly into the microphone, her eyes not straying once from the audience to glance at the karaoke prompter, Her hips swayed rhythmically in time to the music beneath the green satin of her dress and every person in the room was mesmerized.

" _Think of all the fun I've missed. Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed…_ "

The words coming out of Natasha's mouth were ones they'd all heard a million times, in various forms, but coming from her, it was sultry and seductive. 

Tony leaned in towards Clint, who was on his left and nursing the same beer he'd been drinking since they'd first ordered.

"Holy crap! I knew she could sing, but I didn't know she could sing like that," he exclaimed. "It's an act right?"

Clint didn't answer, just kept his eyes on the stage.

"It's one of her personalities. It's gotta be. Natalie? Natalia? Czarina? That Nancy chick she played that one time?"

Clint snorted and shook his head.

"You'll never get it, Stark."

" _Forgot to mention one little thing..._ "

Natasha finished up the song and then neatly stepped off the stage and headed right to them. Smiling, she linked her arm through Clint's.

"Ready to go?"

He set his glass down on the bar and nodded, before shooting a brief look Tony's way.

"It's been fun, Stark, but let's not do it again anytime soon."

Tony started to sputter in protest, but Clint paid him no heed, just wrapped Natasha's coat around her shoulders and herded her towards the door.

"What was that with Stark?" she asked curiously as they stepped out into the cold night air.

"He wanted to know which personality of yours was doing the singing."

"Did you tell him?"

"Nope. I'm keeping you - the real you - all to myself," he said, before glancing down at her. "But seriously? That song?"

She laughed and stood up on tiptoe to kiss him.

"It's just a song. Thought singing **All I Want for Christmas** directly to you would be a little too obvious."

He chuckled and tucked her up against his side as they walked.

"Yeah, guess so."

"Although if you'd like me to show you that's all I want…"

He laughed.

"C'mon. Let's go home."


	7. 21: Senses

_Touch_

In general, Natasha hates to be touched, a holdover from her days in the Red Room, when any true intimacy was frowned upon and your friends became your enemies in the blink of an eye.

Clint changes all of that, with his casual, reassuring touches, with the bumps against her shoulder and the flick of his fingers against her knee and the blunt kick of his boot against hers.

Clint changes a lot of things for her.

 

_Sight_

It isn’t jealousy, she tells herself, when she sees Clint talking with the pretty blonde at SHIELD headquarters.

It’s healthy for him to have relationships with women besides herself. She’s his partner and friend, but she’s not his lover, and Clint… Well, Clint needs other people. So it’s good that he’s found someone, she thinks, as she watches them talk and laugh.

When May sees her fascination and calls her out on it, she doesn’t deny it. And when May confirms that the blonde is his ex-wife, Natasha has to reevaluate how she views so many things, including Clint, herself, and their relationship.

 

_Sound_

She can still hear the echo of the blast in her head, the shockingly loud initial explosion and the slightly smaller ones that came after. She can hear the hoarseness of her voice as she calls out to Clint, can hear the barely there whisper of his call for help.

What she has blocked out, what she refuses to relive ever again, is the devastated look on his face while his gravelly voice asks why he can’t hear anything.

Temporary or permanent, they’ll face this just like they’ve faced everything else; they’ll face it together.

 

_Smell_

He’s taken to cooking in their downtime, something to fill up the time when they’re both not off saving the world, either separately or together, or lounging on opposite ends of the couch while reading.

It starts with chili, spicy and fragrant, filling the apartment with delicious smells of tomato and beef and beans. Soon, it turns to bolognese, then curry, each new recipe bringing with it it’s own unique smells and memories of times and places they’ve been together.

 

_Taste_

She doesn’t know what she expects when he tells her to close her eyes and taste, but she doesn’t expect the deep, dark delicious taste of chocolate followed by a startlingly hot spiciness. Nor does she expect the light kiss he bestows on her afterwards, his lips tasting faintly of coffee and mint.

When she finally opens her eyes, his smile is hesitant and shy. She suspects her own answering smile is similar. After all these years as friends and partners, this is new territory for them, but it’s clearly something they’ve both been wanting.

Wrapping an arm around his neck, she pulls his mouth down to hers once more. He tastes like home.


	8. Day 22: Injuries/Hurt/Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That thing where you think Advent entries should be shortish but then one gets away from you because the assassins refuse to shut up and then you're wondering why the hell they're talking so much anyways because aren't they the strong, silent types?
> 
> Anyhoo, have a Happy Day 22 as I harken back to the original Avengers movie. :)

"Ouch."

Clint flinched as the tweezers touched the raw skin surrounding one of his cuts.

"Quit being such a baby," Natasha chastised.

He winced again, but shut his mouth and let her continue pulling the glass from his skin. He looked down, concentrating on the pattern of the carpet to distract himself from the pain, and that's when he noticed the slight swelling beneath her boot.

"What happened to your ankle?"

She continued pulling the glass from his arm. 

"Nothing. It's fine."

He snorted. "No, it's not. What happened?"

She shook her head, ever so slightly, and shrugged off his concern. 

"Price of doing business."

"Natasha."

She sighed and looked up at him, biting her lip lightly before speaking. 

"Loki."

His eyebrows shot up. 

"Loki?"

She shook her head again. 

"When he… After." She stopped, regrouped. "Hulk. He got out. Was activated. There was a thing. A chase. It's fine."

"Natasha…"

"It's _fine_."

Her voice warned him to leave it alone, but he couldn't.

"Like that thing in Odessa was fine? Just a little graze?"

She glared at him and dabbed extra hard with the alcohol soaked gauze at one of his oozing wounds.

"Fuck, Nat! Will you cut it out?" he demanded, jerking his arm away. He lowered his voice and asked, "Did you get it checked out?"

She nodded. 

"Sprain. It'll be fine," she said, then silently went back to working on his arm and shoulder.

It was several long minutes before anything else was said, where the only sounds in the room were the quite plink of glass hitting the bowl and Clint's sharp inhalations anytime Natasha picked at a particularly large piece.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she finally asked.

It was his turn to shrug off the seriousness of the situation. 

"I was forty floors up and out of arrows. Didn't have a choice."

"Or you did and you chose to be reckless."

"Does it matter?"

She pursed her lips and kept working on him, but he could tell by the expression on her face and the set of her shoulders that she was barely holding on.  
He turned and took her hands, pulling them away from tending to his wounds. 

"Tasha…"

Her eyes shot to his. 

"Don't."

He took a deep breath. 

"I'm sorry."

She narrowed her eyes at him. 

"For the window?"

"For all of it."

"Not your fault."

"It was."

"Clint…"

"Natasha…"

She dumped the bloody gauze into the bowl with the glass then stood up, wincing as her ankle took too much weight. He frowned up at her.

"Fine?"

She shook her head and allowed the smallest hint of a smile. "Maybe not quite."

"Yeah. Thought so."

She held her hand out and helped pull him up. 

"Stark invited everyone out for shawarma after we take care of Loki. You up for it?"

He shrugged, groaning a little at the pull on his abused body.

"Maybe?"

She nodded in understanding.

"Grab your bow and let's go scare the hell out of a God. Then we'll see about shawarma. Deal?"

"Deal."


	9. Day 24: FREE DAY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to take it quite literally and write about what they do on their free days.

Setting her mug of tea on the side table, Natasha kicked her feet up over Clint's legs and settled in against the arm of the couch.

"So what's the plan for today?"

"Battling aliens? Defeating flying robots trying to take over the world? Avoiding general mayhem? "

"Nope. The news is ridiculously mundane this morning. I checked and there are no texts from Stark or messages from Fury, so it appears we have the whole day to ourselves." She picked up her mug and eyed Clint over the rim as she took a sip from it. "So… plans?

Clint leaned over and scratched the top of Lucky's head where the mutt lay on the floor next to him.

"Trashy tv and the crossword?"

She grinned. 

"And you'll make chili for later?"

"Only if you ask extra nicely."

Her grin got even bigger as she set her mug aside again then crawled over to drape her body over his. 

"Clint, baby, will you please make me chili later today?" she purred, nuzzling his neck.

He laughed and pushed her away. Giggling, she collapsed down against his side and snuggled in. 

"So will you?"

He snorted. 

"Like I could say no to you? I'll make the chili if you make the cornbread."

"Deal."


	10. Day 25: Christmas/New Year's/Hanukkah/Holidays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May everyone have a lovely, peaceful and as happy as it can be day, no matter what you are celebrating or not celebrating at this time of year. (And if it isn't happy, at least I hope it's not too stressful!)

"Tranquilizer dart?" Natasha asked she hung up her Christmas stocking.

Clint shook his head 

"No."

She surveyed her handiwork and then tacked Clint's stocking up next to hers. 

"What about some trip wires?"

"No."

"Sedative in the cocoa?"

"Natasha, _no_. You may not in any way try to trap or otherwise catch Santa."

She pouted, but nodded her acquiescence. 

"Fine. I will not do any of those things."

"Great. Now let's go to bed. Who knows what Stark has planned for tomorrow morning? I want to be well rested for whatever scheme he's come up with for Christmas."

She nodded and the two slipped off down the hall to their rooms.

Several hours later, they were woken by a loud crash out in the lounge followed by several colorful expletives. They skidded to a halt at the entrance to the room to find Stark, wrapped up in a nest of Christmas lights.

Clint turned and glared at her.

She shrugged. 

"You didn't say anything about an elaborate booby trap," she said. "But I should warn both of you -"

Too late, a heavy Christmas star came crashing down onto Tony's head.

"Natasha?" he slurred seconds before sliding unconscious to the floor.

The sound of Clint's laughter could be heard at least three floors up.


End file.
